Lovely Rita, Meter Maid
by Beledi1113
Summary: What if Rita isn't who she says she is? I told myself I wasn't going to write a season 8 story but this idea just popped in my head.
1. Chapter 1 No Honor Among Thieves

**Lovely Rita, Meter Maid**

Summary: What if Rita isn't who she says she is? I told myself I wasn't going to write a season 8 story but this idea just popped in my head.

Author's Notes: Don't own Castle; just writing to mess with the characters. And this is probably going to be short, maybe just a couple of chapters because I don't have time to write a long story now.

 **Chapter 1 No Honor among Thieves**

# # # # # # #

The semi-darkness that blanketed NYC at night had already descended as Rita sat cattycornered down the street from Castle's loft, parked away from a street light, her soccer mom SUV blending in with all the other cars.

She sat still so as not to attract attention of the people strolling by, out for a cup of coffee or late dinner, and patiently watched, knowing that the seeds she had planted would soon come to harvest.

"Good," she said finally with a self-satisfied smirk as she watched Beckett tearfully throw a bag into the back of her NYPD issued car and drive away.

"How'd you know she'd leave?" the man sitting hidden in the backseat asked.

"Because that's who she is," Rita replied. "Bracken was right. She'll always be tilting at windmills no matter the cost."

"Now what? Do we take care of Beckett and Singh?"

"Oh, no, dearie," Rita replied. "We give them just enough rope to play with. That should keep them preoccupied. And then we'll take care of Mr. Castle in couple of weeks – a simple accident that will leave Kate both a widow and with an unsolvable mystery because she just left the one person who could identify us."

The man nodded. "Good."

"Now the more delicate dance will be keeping Hunt out of the way until then. It won't do us any good for him to start meddling now," Rita said as she started the car. "I'm assuming you've handled that."

At the man's nod, she drove away.

# # # # # # #

In Los Angeles, DEA CSU investigators Trevor Mullins and Taney Nguyen carefully suited up before entering the storage building, nicknamed 'the Den of Inequity,' that housed the large shipments of drugs seized in busts in the southern California area and that were still being held pending a trial.

"Which shipment are we looking for again?" Mullins asked as they walked through the rows of metal shelving, each pushing a large dolly.

"Lot number CA97645," replied Nguyen, checking her iPad. "From a bust two days ago in the Warehouse District of LA. The DEA agents just sealed the crates on site and dropped them off here for inventory."

"Got them," said Mullins as he matched the lot number. He snorted. "Ha – these guys are really ingenious – shipping the drugs in medical supply crates."

"Told you so," said Nguyen as she frowned at six large wooden crates stacked two crates high. "And we should have brought the forklift."

"Yeah, you're right. I'll go back and get it. Why don't you start on the inventory?" Mullins asked.

"Sure," said Nguyen, waving as Mullins walked off.

She sat up the tripod and hooked up the camera so they would have visual evidence of the inventory in case there was some question in court. You could never be too careful these days.

She started the camera and walked in front of it.

"CSU investigator Tanney Nyugen, November 15, 2015; inventory of lot number CA97645," she said as a way of introduction.

She pulled up the list on her iPad and carefully matched each crate number to a matching number on the list of items inventoried at the drug bust.

"All crates are accounted for," she said and then picked up the cordless drill from the dolly.

She quickly unscrewed the top of the crate and then opened it, laying the top down on the dolly.

"Inventory of crate number CA97645 – 1."

She reached inside and pulled out several packages of bandages. "One layer of medical dressings, covering…" she looked inside and pulled out a fake bottom… "what appears to be bricks of a white powder of unknown origin."

She undid the top of the next crate and repeated the same findings, and then looked back over her shoulder as Mullins drove up on the forklift.

"Do you want the honors?" he asked.

Nguyen smiled and shook her head. "No, you go ahead."

She moved the camera out of the way as Mullins carefully slid the forks into the pallet under the top crate and then lifted it up and sat it on a dolly.

Nguyen carefully took out each brick, weighed it, took a small sample, taped up the hole, and then put it back in the crate.

When she had inventoried all of the items in the crate, she screwed the lid back shut and added a seal that the inventory had been completed, as Mullins got the next crate ready.

They had inventoried 3 crates and were starting on the 4th when the 'incident' occurred.

Nguyen had removed the bandages and bent over to pull out the first brick, but found that it was stuck, so she pulled harder, only to have the wrapping tear in her hands.

"Oh, damn!" she exclaimed, looking at the white powder that now covered the inside of the crate.

"What happened?" asked Mullins as he rushed over.

Nguyen shook her head. "I don't know – the packages stuck together and then just tore open when I tried to pull them out."

"Well, good thing we're were protective gear," said Mullins.

Nguyen held up the empty plastic package and examined it. "Hey, does that look like blood to you?"

Mullins squinted at the wrapper. "Yeah, it does – that would explain them sticking together."

"And those look like fingerprints," said Nguyen, taking a picture of the prints and sending it to the lab. "Someone's going away."

"And maybe they'll roll and lead us to the head guy," said Mullins. "You know what they say – there is no honor among thieves."

Nguyen turned to the camera. "Did you get that?" she asked rhetorically.

# # # # # # #

Mullins and Nguyen had finished the inventory, showered, and changed back into street clothes when the text alert sounded on her phone.

"Got a match," she said to Mullins as she walked out of the locker room.

"Already?"

"Yeah, the fingerprints were in the system," said Nguyen. "And the winner is…"

Mullins did a drum roll on his knees.

"Richard Edgar Castle?" Nguyen said in disbelief as she looked at the text.

"The mystery writer?" asked Mullins as he looked over her shoulder at the phone.

"Yeah," answered Nguyen, nodding slowly. She quickly dialed a number.

"Hey, Frank, this is Tan. We just did your inventory and someone left evidence in the crates. And you are not going to believe who it is."

# # # # # # #


	2. Chapter 2 Hitting the Wall

**Lovely Rita, Meter Maid**

Summary: What if Rita isn't who she says she is? I told myself I wasn't going to write a season 8 story but this idea just popped in my head.

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews, favs, and follows. Don't own Castle; just writing to mess with the characters. And maybe I should add some angst now…hmm….And yes, several other people have used some of the ideas I'm using in my story in their fanfics. Great minds think alike.

 **Chapter 2 Hitting the Wall**

# # # # # # #

 _Definition – To_ _become_ _suddenly_ _and_ _extremely_ _fatigued,_ _especially_ _when_ _participating_ _in an_ _endurance_ _sport,_ _such_ _as_ _running,_ _or_ __ _to_ _lose_ _effectiveness_ _suddenly_ _or_ _come_ _to an_ _end._

 _"It felt like an elephant had jumped out of a tree onto my shoulders and was making me carry it the rest of the way in."—Dick Beardsley, speaking of hitting "The Wall" at the second marathon of his career, the 1977 City of Lakes Marathon._

# # # # # # #

Rita's call was a simple "Tonight's a go." that put a plan of destruction into motion.

By midnight, LOCKSAT would have 3 less problems.

Richard Castle would be dead, killed when the plane he was in exploded over the Atlantic and his books would be worth a lot more than they were now.

Kate Becket would be a wealthy widow but she would never reap the benefits of her estranged husband's money. The planted evidence would show that she and her lover Vikram Singh had conspired to murder her estranged husband by planting a bomb in his suitcase, with no regard to the fact that they also murdered 250 innocent people in the process.

Rita took the battery and SIM card out of the burner phone and crushed the SIM card into the ground with her heel, and then carefully disposed of all pieces.

# # # # # # #

Castle stood at the 12th precinct reception desk, feeling like he was waiting to see the principal for some misbegotten deed he had done. Most of the time, he knew why he was in trouble, but this time, he had no clue as to why.

And since he was no longer a consultant, he had to wait for them to verify his identity, even though they knew him on sight, and to make sure he was approved to be there.

He then had to wait for someone to come take him up to the homicide floor.

"Here you go, Mr. Castle," said Evie, the receptionist, as she handed him a visitor badge. "LT will be down in a minute to escort you up."

A couple of years ago, he would have made some pithy and inappropriate remark about an escort in a police department, but now he just said, "Thank you, Evie."

A few moments later, the elevators dinged and LT walked out, looking around for Castle.

"Morning, LT," said Castle, shaking the man's hand. "Thanks for coming down. I really appreciate it."

"Good to see you," LT replied and then paused trying to decide on a safe topic. "So how's the PI business?"

"Really good. Alexis is closing a lot of cases. But then again, we only take cases that can be solved quickly," Castle joked as they rode up the elevator.

"That's good," LT responded.

"Yeah," Castle replied as he watched the floors tick off.

The doors opened and they walked into the bullpen, where Espo and Ryan sat at their desks, working files. Beckett sat in her office, going through a stack of paper on her desk.

"Hey, Castle," Ryan said, standing when he saw Castle and shaking hands. "We haven't seen you in a couple of weeks."

"Yeah," echoed Espo, fisting bumping with the writer. "What bring you by? Got a case you need help with?"

"No, that's actually going pretty good," Castle said. "I was just in the neighborhood and needed to talk to Ka – Captain Beckett for a minute."

He wasn't about to tell them that he had no clue how to get ahold of his wife, where she was staying, why she wasn't returning his calls.

"Sure," said Ryan, with a slight frown.

Castle walked towards the Captain's office and then paused, looking back at the detectives who were watching him. "I'm going to be out of the country for a couple of weeks. I know she's all grown now, but can you keep an eye on Alexis for me?"

Ryan and Espo nodded as one. "Sure, bro." "Yeah, we'll be glad to."

"Thanks," said Castle as he turned around and walked back to Beckett's office door.

He paused for a moment. Time to rip off the band aid, he thought as he knocked on the door.

"Come i-" Beckett started to say and then looked up, the words dying in her throat when she saw who was standing there.

"I called a couple of times, but you didn't answer, so I thought I'd catch you here," Castle said.

"Yeah," said Beckett, nodding slightly as she pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. "It's just that I'm really busy now – with work."

"Right," Castle nodded in return. "Anyway, I'll be out of the country for the next couple of weeks so you can stop by the loft to get whatever you need. You didn't take much with you."

"You're leaving?" Beckett asked, slightly surprised.

"Paula and Gina scheduled a book tour to England to promote the last Nikki Heat book—"

"I thought you had several more planned," Beckett broke in.

Castle shrugged. "I thought I'd end it before it overstayed its welcome. And Paula has managed to get me that offer again for writing a certain British secret agent. I'll be finalizing the paperwork while I'm there."

"Look, Rick, I know it doesn't make any sense now, but you have to trust me—"

Castle interrupted her by holding up his hand. "No, Beckett," Castle said, taking a breath. "I've come to accept that's who you are – who you always will be. There will always be this wall that I can't scratch and claw my way over."

"Castle, babe—" Beckett pleaded.

Castle's phone chirped. "That's the car service. They're waiting for me downstairs." He paused. "We'll talk when I get back."

He walked over to where she sat and brushed his lips against the top of her head. "I love you, Kate, but I don't know if that's enough anymore."

With that, he walked out of her office without looking back.

# # # # # # #

DEA Agent Taylor Bickham pulled out his phone and dialed a number, looking at the warrant that the judge had just given him.

"DJ, it's me. I just got the warrant. Send a unit to pick up Mr. Castle. I'm catching the red eye and will be there in the morning."

"I'll get right on it." There was a pause. "His name just popped on TSA watch list. He's on the 8 pm flight to London."

"Damn," swore Bickham. "He's probably already boarded by now." He thought for a moment. "Get TSA to stop the flight and have the air marshals pick him up. And keep him under lock and key. We don't want this one getting away from us."

# # # # # # #

Beckett stared at the paperwork that she kept shuffling on her desk, her mind not really on the task at hand, wanting to be somewhere else – maybe on the plane with Castle or chasing the big bad so she could go back to Castle, anywhere but here stuck behind a desk.

"It's not as much fun as it looks, is it?" said Deputy Commissioner Gates.

Beckett shot to her feet. "Sir, I didn't hear you knock."

"That's because I didn't," said Gates. "Please sit down, Beckett. This isn't a social call."

Beckett sat, her back stiff as Gates sat in the visitor's chair across from her and watched her for several minutes without speaking, the same tactic Beckett used to soften up suspects.

By the time Gates spoke, Beckett felt her pulse racing, waiting for the shoe to drop.

"Captain Beckett, your 90 day review is in a few weeks and frankly, 1PP isn't pleased with your performance up to this point."

"I can explain, sir," Beckett said.

"Oh, I'm sure you can," said Gates. "So, let's start with that stunt you pulled on your first day as Captain."

"It wasn't a stunt, sir," Beckett said carefully. "An AG analyst called me with a code 7; I had to help him."

"And I'm sure you felt like you did," Gates responded. "But once again, you went off on your own with no back up. You're an NYPD captain now, Kate. You have resources that you could have used, but you didn't. However, the Attorney General himself called and interceded on your behalf, so there will be no disciplinary action taken for that.

"The problem is that the NYPD can't have people who bat for different teams, so that will be a consideration. In addition, your numbers are down and you're not turning paperwork in on time."

Beckett nodded. "I've been busy."

"With what, Kate, or should I say with whom? Certainly not your husband if you believe the stories on page 6," Gates said. "And you've been leaving the precinct every night around 7 pm."

"Sir?" Beckett asked. She never read the gossip page anyway even when she did have time.

"Here," said Gates, laying page 6 down on her desk.

Beckett frowned as she picked it up and saw the picture of herself and Singh at a street vendor, getting an order to go. The headline read 'Is there a new boy toy in Nikki Heat's life now?'

Beckett shook her head as she looked at Gates. "This isn't what it looks like."

"Then what is it, Kate? He was the AG analyst, wasn't he? And it's no secret that he works here now – that he was hired on your request. And it's no secret that you left Castle almost 2 months ago. These blurbs have been popping up for the last couple of weeks and 1PP doesn't like this kind of press. It gives the department a bad reputation."

"I'm sorry, sir," Beckett responded quietly.

"Kate, whatever this is – if it's a mid-life crisis or you didn't marry the right person – you need to decide what's important and you need to do it sooner rather than later. I recommended you for the job and I don't do that lightly. Don't make me apologize that I did."

"Yes, sir," said Beckett.

# # # # # # #

Feeling like all eyes were on her, Beckett left the precinct using the loading dock door and took the subway, rather than her company issued vehicle.

She switched routes several times just to be sure she wasn't being followed and then made her way to the warehouse where Singh had set up shop.

Beckett quietly let herself in, listening to make sure that everything sounded normal, or as near normal as it could sound when you were tracking a hostile secret agency.

She stopped when she saw Singh sitting in the chair, not facing a computer, his face pale and sweaty, his hands zip-tied behind his back.

Beckett carefully slid her gun out of her holster and brought it up shoulder height as she carefully scanned the area.

"That won't be necessary," said a voice that she recognized. "So glad you could join us, Kate, or should I call you Captain Beckett now?"

"Cross," she said as she holstered her gun and walked into the room. "What are you doing here?"

"I was in town and thought I'd say 'congratulations' to the newlyweds," Cross replied. "Imagine my surprise when I find out that they aren't and that you've taken up with him instead of Richard," he said, motioning to Singh.

Beckett walked over to Singh and released his hands. "Are you okay?"

Singh nodded. "Yeah – who's he?"

"My father-in-law," Beckett said simply. She turned to face Cross. "Look, it's not that simple."

"It rarely is," Cross responded. "So enlighten me."

"When I was with the AG's office, I ran a search on Bracken and illegal activities. Nothing happened – or at least, nothing happened then. About two months ago, the search returned a memo and everyone who has seen the memo has died."

"Except you and lover boy here?" Cross asked.

Beckett nodded. "Yeah. My AG team was taken out but Singh got away and called me. I helped him and we took out the mercenaries that were trying to kill us."

"So?"

"Have you ever heard of LOCKSAT?" Beckett asked.

Cross frowned and nodded. "Yeah, we've been hunting them for years, but any time we get close, they've already disappeared."

Beckett nodded. "That's what your wife said."

"My wife?" Cross asked.

"Rita – she saved us from some of the mercenaries. She said that she had been looking for them for years," Beckett responded.

"Kate, I don't know who you met, but I'm not married. I don't have a wife," Cross responded to Beckett's utter horror.

# # # # # # #


	3. Chapter 3 The Pawn Gambit

**Lovely Rita, Meter Maid**

Summary: What if Rita isn't who she says she is? I told myself I wasn't going to write a season 8 story but this idea just popped in my head.

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews, favs, and follows. Don't own Castle; just writing to mess with the characters. Rated high T for swearing.

 **Chapter 3 The Pawn Gambit**

# # # # # # #

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?" Alexis asked as she and Castle walked to the screening section of the airport after checking his luggage. "Who's going to keep you out of trouble?"

Castle shook his head as he gave her a hug and a kiss. "Thanks, Pumpkin, but I'm a grown man and it's time I started acting like one. Besides you have finals and an office to run. See you in a couple of weeks. Don't solve any cases that I wouldn't solve."

"Okay," Alexis laughed, returning the hug and kiss. "But just don't grow up too much while you're gone."

As he watched Alexis walk off, Castle handed his ticket and prescreening pass to the screening agent. "Good evening, Miss," he said, turning his attention back to her.

"Good evening, Mr. Castle," she said as she read the name on his ticket. "I see you're already prescreened."

"Yes, ma'am," he answered.

"Have a nice flight," she said, handing him back his ticket and prescreening pass.

"Thank you," he replied and walked down the hallway to the gate.

As he walked, he folded his ticket and prescreening pass and put them in his front jacket pocket, his fingers brushing against something metal.

Oh, damn, he thought as he pulled out a single key on a key ring. He had been so preoccupied at the precinct that he had forgotten to give Beckett the new key to the loft.

Castle pulled out his phone to call her but stopped. Calling her probably wouldn't do any good because she hadn't been taking his calls lately. He'd just call Eduardo and let him know to let Beckett up if she came by while he was gone.

As he was walking to the departure gate, he noticed a large poster with his picture on it, advertising his book tour in England.

"What are you smiling at?" he murmured as he walked past the poster of the smiling man, obviously taken during a much happier time. "Your life sucks."

# # # # # # #

"Agent Carlson," said the woman, answering her phone. She was working late, tying up some loose ends for several cases.

"Agent Carlson, this is Agent Frank Costales, LA division. I just wanted to give you a courtesy heads-up that we're picking up a suspect in your territory tonight – a Richard Castle. He's wanted in connection with a shipment of drugs seized earlier this week in LA."

Carlson immediately stopped what she was doing to give this complication her full attention. "Do you need any assistance?" she asked.

"No, we've got it. We will be extraditing him back to LA as soon as possible."

"Great. Thanks for calling," said Carlson.

As she hung up the phone, she immediately searched for the case file.

There, she thought as she brought it up. A warehouse was raided last week and not only had Richard Castle's fingerprints been found on the confiscated contraband, his blood had been found on it also and a bullet.

God dammit to hell, she silently swore. The pilot was supposed to have dumped that shipment in the ocean and now it shows up in DEA custody. They could make it disappear, but that would take longer than they had to be able to do it discretely.

Hindsight was 20/20 and she should have just dumped that writer's lousy carcass in the ocean after she shot him, rather than having his memory of the event erased. To hell with whom his father was – it could have come in handy, but not now.

And she had been stupid enough to use her own gun that could now be traced back to her when ballistics were run on the bullet.

This was not good – it was little things like this that brought down mighty empires – income tax evasion, unpaid parking tickets, greedy pilots who cut out the middle man.

So now it was time to close up shop here. LOCKSAT would take a hit, but they were diversified enough that it wouldn't matter in the long run. Maybe in 10 or 15 years, they'd start back up in the States.

She pulled a burner phone out of a secret compartment in the bottom of her briefcase and quickly dialed a number.

"Brad, I'm pulling the plug on all US operations – yes, the clean house protocol. Your contact double-crossed us on last year's trip to Thailand and the DEA has that shipment in custody and I can't get to it in time. Take care of him. No, don't detonate the bomb, but do let them know where Beckett and Singh are. That should keep them chasing their tails and buy us some time."

Carlson pulled a USB drive out of the secret compartment and inserted it into her computer, clicking on the single file stored on the drive. She watched for a few seconds as the virus invaded her computer, leaving a path of destruction as it wiped out files.

She left her gun on the desk as she walked out of the office and away from her life.

# # # # # # #

Alexis noted the tail number of the plane and watched as the passengers boarded and it pulled away from the gate.

"Be safe, Dad," she whispered.

But instead of taxing to the runway, the plane stopped on the tarmac. Baggage handlers came out and started unloading the freight off the plane at the same time, 2 black SUVs pulled up. Several men in suits got out of the SUVs as the door of the plane opened and a set of stairs was rolled and locked in place.

# # # # # # #

Castle felt the plane slow to a stop as the captain's voice came over the loudspeaker.

"Folks, it will be just a minute. It seems we've picked up some luggage that belongs elsewhere so we need to wait while they remove it."

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Castle slumped in his seat and willed his hand not to reach in his pocket and pull out his phone so he could play Angry Birds during the delay.

"Mr. Richard Castle?" a deep voice said beside him.

Castle looked up at two large men in suits standing next to his seat. "Yes," he answered cautiously.

"If you will come with us, sir," the other man said.

"Sure," Castle answered, slightly confused, as he stood. "Did I miss something on my prescreening application?"

The two men quickly zipped tied his hands behind him and walked him out the front door of the plane and down the stairs to the waiting SUV.

# # # # # # #

Alexis watched in shock as her father was taken off the plane and put into the SUV, which then drove away.

She quickly pulled out her phone and hesitated – if things weren't the way they were, she would have called Beckett. But now, who could she call?

She quickly dialed Detective Ryan's number.

"Detective Ryan, this is Alexis Castle," she said when he answered. "I need help. I'm at the airport and my dad's just been arrested and taken away by someone in a black SUV. I don't know what to do."

# # # # # # #

"What do you mean, you're not married?" Beckett asked.

Cross shrugged. "Just that – I'm not married, never have been, never will be. In my line of work, attachments are liabilities."

"That's exactly what Rita said," Beckett replied.

"Yeah, kind of a mantra in my line of work." He cocked his head at her. "What was in the memo that's getting everyone killed?"

"It was redacted, but it had LOCKSAT 2011BD written on the side," Singh said. "I was here in New York on business and someone tried to kill me, but I got away. I knew Beckett was here, so I called her for help."

"And you didn't think to call your agency?" Cross questioned.

Singh shook his head. "No, I didn't know who to trust. I had just learned they had taken out my team in Washington DC the day before. I thought since she wasn't with the agency, she would be a safe choice."

Cross grunted in response. "And you," he said, looking at Beckett. "You willingly walked into what obviously could have been a trap? You're a police captain – why didn't you call for backup?"

Beckett's face turned to stone. "Look, I'm not here to debate what I should or should not have done. I made a decision and I wasn't about to risk anyone else's life since I didn't know what I was walking into."

"No, only yours," said Cross bluntly.

They stared at each other silently for a moment before Cross broke the tension by asking, "So tell me about this Rita, who says she's my wife."

"She's in her mid-60's, probably Martha's age," said Beckett. "Tall, slender, short hair."

"Snarky attitude," added Singh. "But she saved us – she killed some of the mercenaries who were going to kill us."

Cross shook his head. "No, I don't know her. And yeah, that's the oldest trick in the book – the pawn gambit – sacrifice a pawn to take a rook."

"So are you saying that she's part of LOCKSTAT?" Beckett asked.

"She lied about being married to me," Cross answered.

"She told me to not look into this," Beckett said. "That she would find them." She deliberately left out the part where Rita had told her to go back to her husband and have a happy life.

"She gave me a card if I needed to contact her." Beckett pulled the card out of her purse and handed it to Cross.

Cross looked at the number, instantly memorizing it. "Maybe to keep tabs on you? Did you ever call her?" he asked.

"I didn't need to. She was waiting outside the loft when I got home," Beckett replied, frowning.

"Then that was probably a warning shot," said Cross. "So why did you leave Richard?" he asked, finally addressing the elephant in the room.

"To keep him safe. Bracken had my mother killed, but these people may have been his partners. And they killed my AG team," answered Beckett.

"Ah, vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord," quoted Cross. "So how does leaving him keep him safe? I don't see any divorce papers, so you do realize that won't stop them from using him against you."

"They haven't so far," Beckett replied.

"Yeah, makes you wonder why," said Cross, nodding. "Anyway, I think I've found out all I need to know. I'll let myself out, so you two can get back to doing whatever you two are doing."

Beckett took a breath as Cross walked out of the room. Was he right? Had she been played? If she had, what was LOCKSAT doing? There was a big picture here and she just had to let all the puzzle pieces settle into a pattern.

An hour later, Singh looked up from his search. "Got him," he said.

Beckett walked over. "Where?"

"Facial recognition shows that our unidentified man just went into a warehouse on Gansevoort Street," Singh replied.

"Okay, let's find out what he's doing," Beckett replied.

She paused at the main door on the first floor, carefully surveilling the area to see if anyone was around.

The street was empty, so she opened the door and they quickly walked out.

They had just reached the current car that 'Will Demming' was renting, when the street was flooded with light, blinding them.

Beckett's hand automatically dropped to her service piece when a voice boomed out from behind the lights, "Put your hands on top of your head and get on the ground, face down."

Eyes wide, Singh looked at Beckett and followed her example as she put her hands in the air and then lay down on the pavement.

Several officers rushed forward, quickly relieving them of their service weapons and zip-tying their hands behind their back. They then pulled them to their feet.

"Katherine Houghton Beckett and Vikram Singh," said Deputy Commission Gates coldly as she walked up to them. "You are under arrest for the attempted murder of Richard Edgar Castle and conspiracy to bring down an airplane."

Beckett shook her head. "No, no," she said, shock written on her face. "What's happened to my husband? Is he okay?" She couldn't believe that everything she had done had been in vain.

# # # # # # #


	4. Chapter 4 Juxtaposition

**Lovely Rita, Meter Maid**

Summary: What if Rita isn't who she says she is? I told myself I wasn't going to write a season 8 story but this idea just popped in my head.

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews, favs, and follows – all of you rock. Don't own Castle; just writing to mess with the characters. And yeah, I had already planned to how to write the opening scene before watching 'What Lies Beneath.' And I gave Danberg a promotion because I like him. And no, I don't hate Beckett; I may not agree with what's she's doing though since Castle's going to find out/figure it out anyway.

 **Chapter 4 Juxtaposition**

# # # # # # #

It was early the next morning when agent Costales arrived at the DEA headquarters in New York City, ready to confront the miscreant who had the audacity to try to outwit the DEA and smuggle illegal drugs into their "house" on his watch.

He had spent the trip going over the files in minutiae, preparing to challenge each lie, each alibi. And he was sure that spending the night in a cold room with only the bare essentials, along with the threat of never seeing the light of day again, would rattle Castle enough that he would roll on his companions in this illicit trade.

But when he walked into the director's office, much to his chagrin, he found that Castle wasn't in a holding cell but sitting there, looking refreshed, having coffee and pastries, and laughing at a joke that the DEA Deputy Administrator Straham had just told. Milton Miles, NY DEA Director, and two other men in severe dark suits sat at the table, also chuckling at the joke.

Straham looked up at him. "Good morning, Agent Costales. I trust you had a good flight."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Straham," Costales said, clearly confused. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"This situation warranted my personal attention," the man said simply.

"Yes, sir," responded Costales, frowning. "But, sir, what's going on? I thought that Mr. Castle would be in a holding cell given the evidence we have against him."

"Ah, yes, about that," Straham replied. "New information has come to light that clears Mr. Castle, thanks to Deputy Director Danberg of the CIA."

"But, sir, we have his fingerprints on a shipment of confiscated drugs – a major shipment with a street value of more than $5 million," Costales protested.

"And there is an explanation, but it's classified," Straham said. "Let's just say that we formally dropped all charges against Mr. Castle last night and thanked him for his service."

"But I wasn't told that the charges had been dropped," Costales said, frowning, now even more confused. "Sir, if they were dropped last night, then why am I here?"

Straham's demeanor changed abruptly to less than friendly, more like the pit bull that he resembled. "Answer one question for me, Agent Costales – who did you call yesterday to tell them about taking Mr. Castle into custody?"

"Senior Agent Anita Carlson, here in New York," Costales replied.

"And who told you to call?" asked Straham.

"Regional director Adrian Mendez," Costales said, not sure where the questioning was going. "It was his standing order to give the other regions a heads-up when we were arresting someone in their jurisdiction. He had a list of contacts in each region."

Straham looked at Danberg who nodded slightly. "That checks."

Straham looked back at Costales. "Agent Costales, thank you for your time, but we have the situation in hand. We've taken the liberty to book you on the 2 pm flight back to LA." He fixed the agent with a piercing stare. "And let me remind you that this meeting is classified and to not to discuss it with anyone. Stella will see you out."

The door to Director Miles' office opened and a young woman in a tailored suit stepped in, waiting with a pleasant smile on her face.

"Yes, sir," said Costales, glancing at Stella and then back at the men sitting at the table before walking out of the room.

"Well, gentlemen, it's truly been a lovely morning," said Castle as he stood and then looked at Danberg. "But now could we go get my daughter and bust my wife out of the slammer?"

# # # # # # #

Unlike Castle's more-pleasant treatment after Danberg arrived to clear him, Beckett had spent a tense night in a cell in administrative segregation for her own protection because word had spread quickly that the mighty had fallen and she was being brought in.

Upon their arrest, she and Singh were put into separate squad cars, where she watched in dismay as CSU walked into the building, ready to box up and remove all of the equipment in their 'lair,' storing it as evidence.

Because of the special circumstances, they were immediately taken to the Central Booking, rather than the precinct or a federal courthouse for the initial interview. IA would be handling that in the morning.

After arriving at Central Booking, Beckett's identify was verified and she was fingerprinted and photographed and then handcuffed. A female police officer searched her and then gave her an orange jump suit to change into, along with paper slippers. Her clothes and shoes were put in a large plastic bag to be used as evidence.

"Please," Beckett asked softly, "can you tell me what happened to my husband?"

"Remove your jewelry and place it in this bag," was the only thing the officer said in response.

Beckett fought back tears as she slid her wedding ring off her finger and placed it in a small plastic bag, along with her father's watch and the necklace that held her mother's wedding ring. She then handed the bag to the police officer.

"This way," the officer said, directing her to a small cell with only a metal bench with a thin mattress and a toilet behind a small partition.

After Beckett walked in and the doors clanged shut, the officer told her to put her hands in the small opening so that she could remove the handcuffs.

Beckett spent the night alternately pacing the cell and sitting on the hard bench, jumping at the slightest noise. LOCKSAT had gotten to Bracken in solitary confinement – could they get to her also? And who would protect Rick then?

But worse, what had happened to him? Had they taken him? Was he still alive? Injured, lying in a hospital? Or bleeding out in some alleyway?

It was early the next morning when an officer came to take her for questioning, directing her to put her hands through the small opening in the door so that she could be handcuffed again.

The walk to the interrogation room was interminable, hostile even, based on the cold shoulder the officers were giving her.

As they walked down a long hallway, she saw Ryan, Espo, and Lanie sitting in separate rooms.

"I'm sorry," she mouthed when she caught Ryan's eye.

He quickly looked away, not meeting her eyes.

She was put in a room identical to the one she interrogated suspects in, her handcuffs attached to a ring on the top of the table when she sat down.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, but finally the door opened and Captain Donovan, Chief of IA, and Victoria Gates walked in, both looking somber. Donovan carried a laptop with him and sat it down so that it faced her.

"Well, Ms. Beckett, it seems we are once again on opposite sides of the table," he said.

"Victoria, please," pleaded Beckett, looking at Gates, "please tell me what's happened to Rick?"

"Katherine Houghton Beckett, you have the right to remain silent…," Gates said as she read Beckett her Miranda rights.

Beckett waived her right to an attorney. What good what that do anyway? She couldn't tell them what was going on, what she was involved in.

"Let's make this simple," said Donovan. "You and current love interest have been accused of attempting to murder of your estranged husband Richard Edgar Castle and conspiring to bomb an airplane."

Beckett shook her head. "No, no. That's not true. I would never do anything to hurt Rick."

"Yet you left your husband the day after you met Singh?" Donovan asked.

"Yes, but we aren't in a personal relationship," Beckett said.

"But you're spending most of your nights with Singh," Donovan countered.

Beckett could only nod. To an outsider, it would look like they were having an affair.

"So to get your freedom, you had to get your husband out of the way. He dies when the airplane he's on explodes and suddenly, you're a widow, a very rich widow," Donovan stated. "Oh, that was rhetorical. We have proof."

Donovan stood and opened the door. The policeman standing outside handed him one of Castle's smaller suitcases and a plastic bag containing a device.

"Does this suitcase belong to Richard Castle?" he asked as he put it down in front of her.

Beckett nodded silently. It was one of Castle's favorites, old, worn, but with plenty of compartments to stuff items.

"This," he said as he put the plastic bag down in front of her also, "was found by the TSA screeners last night in this suitcase. It's a bomb, dismantled of course, but you were careless and left fingerprints on it. After all, if it had exploded, there would be no evidence left to connect to you to it."

"No, no – we didn't do that," Beckett said, shaking her head.

"We have copies of the receipts for the items used to make the bomb, all purchased by you and shipped to the address you were staying at," Donovan said. "We also have this, a video of you and Singh breaking into Richard Castle's loft Tuesday morning at 10 am to plant the bomb in his suitcase."

"Ms. Ellis confirmed that the date and time stamp are correct and that the tape has not been altered," interjected Gates.

Donovan looked at her. "So where were you last Tuesday morning at 10 am?"

Beckett paused, a sick feeling in her stomach – they had been doing exactly that, but it wasn't Castle's loft they had broken into. Singh had called her about 9 am to tell her that he had a lead on the unknown man. He was staying in corporate housing near the museum district.

She and Singh had gone there, dressed as deliverymen. The concierge had said the man wasn't in, so they left the package, and then entered through the back door using a fob that she had swiped while Singh was distracting the concierge.

Donovan started the video that showed them walking up to the door. Beckett knelt in front of the door to examine the lock and then smiled as she stood and slipped her key into the door.

Castle had once told her that there were only a limited number of combinations for a lock and that you could probably open 25% of the doors in NYC with his key since he had a commercially-made lock.

At the time, she felt lucky; now, she knew she had been set up.

As she unlocked the door and slowly opened it, Singh looked at her. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked.

Beckett replied, "Yes, let's give this bastard what he deserves."

Beckett could only stare as the video ended.

LOCKSAT had known what they were doing this entire time, where they were.

"So, think carefully before you say anything, Ms. Beckett. Planting a bomb on an airplane is an of terrorism and your next words can determine your fate," Donovan said sternly.

# # # # # # #

 **AN** – yes, if you buy a commercially produced lock, there is a good chance that someone has a key that will fit the lock because hardware stores carry only a limited quantity. Scary, isn't it?


	5. Chptr 5 And The Truth Shall Set You Free

**Lovely Rita, Meter Maid**

Summary: What if Rita isn't who she says she is? I told myself I wasn't going to write a season 8 story but this idea just popped in my head.

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews, favs, and follows – all of you rock. Don't own Castle; just writing to mess with the characters and waiting to see where the series goes. One more chapter after this to wrap things up.

 **Chapter 5 And the Truth Shall Set You Free**

# # # # # # #

Beckett blinked back tears; she couldn't raise her hands to her face because of the handcuffs, but she would be damned if she let them see her cry.

How had this gone so wrong? How could _**she**_ have been so wrong? She thought they were being so careful.

"Well, Ms. Beckett, we're waiting," said Donovan. "Do you deny that is you and Singh on the tape?"

"No, I don't, but it's not what it looks like," Beckett replied softly.

"It rarely is," Gates said. "Would you care to enlighten us?"

Beckett opened her mouth and then closed it. "I'm sorry," she said finally. "I can't. I'd like to call my lawyer now."

Donovan sat back, smirking. "You do realize you're being charged with an act of terrorism. That means no lawyer, no rights. And we have enough to convict you."

He was about to say something else when the door opened and a man in a severe suit walked in, briefcase in hand.

"Good morning, Captain Donovan, Deputy Chief Gates," the man said, nodding at them. "My name is Harrison Cross from the Attorney General's office. I've been retained to represent Captain Beckett."

He sat his briefcase down on the table. "I will be filing a protest immediately that my client's civil rights were violated when she was not allowed to call anyone when taken into custody last night and not allowed to seek legal counsel at that time."

Cross held up a finger to stop Donovan as he started to say something. "And if she had been allowed to make that phone call, all of this could have cleared up then at no cost to the tax payer."

Cross looked pointedly at Donovan and Gates, who stared at him.

"Who retained you?" asked Gates.

"Her husband, Richard Edgar Castle, and the Attorney General." Cross looked at Beckett. "Ms. Beckett, Mr. Castle apologizes for not being here sooner, but he had to stop at City Hall this morning to meet with the mayor, the police commissioner, and the DA."

"What?" Donovan sputtered. "Why?"

"Mr. Castle will personally tell you about the meeting when he gets here. Now, if you'll remove the handcuffs from my client," Cross demanded firmly. "I can guarantee she's not a flight risk."

"Her previous actions say otherwise," said Donovan, but he grudgingly unlocked the handcuffs.

They didn't have to wait long before the door burst open and Castle made a theatrical entrance, worthy of Martha Rodger's son, followed by Alexis.

"Kate, sorry I'm late. I had to see some people first to get the charges against you and Singh dropped," Castle said as he walked over to Beckett and kissed the top of her head before sitting down next to her and taking her hand.

"This is an interrogation," blustered Donovan. "You have no right to be in here."

"Perhaps you missed the part where my father said the charges have been dropped," said Alexis.

"Mr. Castle, I know you would do anything to protect your wife," Gates countered, "but we have irrefutable proof of her guilt."

"Then let's see it," said Castle.

Donovan smirked slightly as he played the tape again. "That is Ms. Beckett and Vikram Singh going into your loft Tuesday morning at 10 am, at which time they planted a bomb in your luggage that was supposed to explode when your plane was over the Atlantic."

Gates looked at Castle coldly. "Ms. Ellis confirmed that the date and time stamp on this tape has not been tampered with."

"And Ms. Beckett opened the door with this key," said Donovan, holding up Beckett's keychain. "That's been verified also."

"That all you got, Sherlock?" said Castle rhetorically, looking directly at Donovan. "Unfortunately for you, there are 2 major problems that blow your theory out of the water. And I am surprised at your lack of due diligence." Castle looked at Cross. "Does this sound like an unlawful arrest lawsuit to you?"

Cross nodded slightly, an eyebrow quirked. "It could cost the city millions, not to mention the bad publicity," he responded. "This will definitely be a black mark on someone's record."

"Care to enlighten us?" Donovan asked. "Or are you just blowing smoke up my ass?"

"I don't blow smoke up anyone's ass, especially yours," said Castle, all business now, nodding to Cross who opened his brief case, pulled out two deadbolt locks, and put them on the table.

"The first problem is that I changed the lock on my front door Monday morning and haven't given Beckett a new key yet," Castle said. "The lock labeled 1 is the old lock and the lock labeled 2 is the new lock. And I have witnesses to this event."

He motioned to two people standing in the hallway. "This is George Tarrant, overnight concierge in my building. And Kate, you remember Norman Jessup, locksmith extraordinaire. George, will you please tell them what happened Monday morning?"

"Yes, Mr. Castle," said Tarrant. He looked at Donovan and Gates. "Mr. Castle called me about 2 am Monday morning and said that the lock on his front door was not working and he needed a temporary replacement."

"How was your lock broken?" asked Gates. "Did someone tamper with it?"

Donovan frowned as he picked up the lock and looked at it. "It looks like someone put glue in it."

"Yes – super glue to be precise," nodded Castle. "Patterson did it."

"Patterson?" asked Donovan.

"James Patterson. I'm sure you're familiar with his books?" Castle said. "He and Connelly came over for a poker game Sunday night, sort of a 'congratulations on the new contract' party. Oh, and Judge Markway was there too. Anyway, when they left, Patterson squirted super glue in the outside of the lock."

"And you're sure that he did it?" Gates asked incredulously.

"Oh, yeah, because they left a note," said Castle as Cross took a piece of paper out of the briefcase and put it on the table.

"These guys are epic pranksters," Castle continued, making a face. "One time, when I was having plot problems, he did the same thing to the bathroom door when I was inside and told me to figure out how to get out. Then he sat on the couch, eating popcorn and watching _Dumbo_ with Alexis."

Tarrant nodded in response.

"And then when one of my books made the best seller list," Castle continued, "they had these fake diplomatic plates made and put them on my car. I didn't notice that for a while and was wondering why I was getting good parking spots." He chortled. "Then this other time, they—"

"Dad!" hissed Alexis, her cheeks flushing slightly, giving him an eye roll.

"And that's a totally inappropriate story," Castle said, taking a breath. He looked back at Donovan. "So there was no way Beckett could have opened my door Tuesday morning. You can try her key in the new lock."

Donovan tried Beckett's key, which wouldn't even fit. He frowned as he put the items back on the table. "How do we know that this is the lock that was on the door on Tuesday?"

"That's the one I sold him as the replacement on Monday," Jessup piped in. "And I came over and installed it personally. Custom model serial number 8763542 and it only has 1 key that will fit."

"And because the mayor, the commission, and the DA were at the loft this morning as witnesses to that," said Castle.

"Rick, who's watching the loft if there isn't a lock on the door?" Beckett asked.

"Definitely not Patterson," Castle replied cryptically.

Donovan frowned. "And what's the second problem, Mr. Castle?"

"The second problem is that the bag that you alleged had the bomb in it wasn't even at my loft on Tuesday. The zipper broke when I tried to open it so I took it to the repair shop on Friday. I didn't pick it up until Wednesday morning, the day of the flight."

He nodded at Cross who put another piece of paper on the table.

"And here's the receipt. You can call them if you want to," said Castle, pointing to the phone number. "So if you're looking for who might have planted a bomb in my suitcase, you might start with the car service. That's the only time the bag was out of my sight that day, except of course when I checked it at the airport, which opens up a whole slew of new suspects."

"This doesn't explain what Beckett and Singh were doing Tuesday morning," Donovan said.

"No, it doesn't. But call this number," Castle said, taking a card out of his jacket pocket, "and ask for Director Martin Danberg—"

"Of the CIA?" Gates asked quickly, remembering the man who had shown up in her office several years ago.

"Yes," Castle replied, nodding slightly. "He's expecting your call."

Donovan left the room for a few minutes and then came back in, looking none to pleased. "Well, Captain Beckett, it looks like you and Singh are off the hook for now. But be forewarned, we'll be watching you."

Beckett breathed a sigh of relief for the first time since she had been arrested and looked at Castle. "Thank you."

"Kate, I'll always have your back," Castle smiled softly. "Now let's go get your stuff so you can get changed and get out of here."

Beckett looked at Alexis and Cross. "Can you give us a minute alone?" she asked.

"Sure," said Alexis, with a half-hearted smile.

Castle stood and shook Cross' hand. "Thanks for your help, Harrison."

"Glad to be of service. You'll get my bill in the mail."

Beckett waited until Alexis and Cross walked out of the room. "Rick, after what happened, I don't know if it's safe for me to come home."

Castle nodded as if he expected her answer, pressing his lips together. "Kate, just come home for now. There are some people who need to talk to you. And then after that, if you decide you need to leave, I won't stop you."

# # # # # # #


	6. Chapter 6 Right Here In Front Of You

**Lovely Rita, Meter Maid**

Summary: What if Rita isn't who she says she is? I told myself I wasn't going to write a season 8 story but this idea just popped in my head.

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews, favs, and follows – all of you rock. Don't own Castle; just writing to mess with the characters. Okay, so I lied, there's one more chapter after this. And I'm really bummed after watching the 2nd sneak peek for Ep 5.

 **Chapter 6 Right Here in Front of You**

# # # # # # #

As soon as the meeting ended, Alexis, Jessup, and Tarrant headed back to the loft so that Jessup could install the lock again under Tarrant's supervision. After Jessup had finished, he texted several pictures of the re-installed lock, along with his smiling face, to Castle.

Castle and Beckett went to the property room at 1PP to retrieve Beckett's personal belongings so that she could change before leaving the building.

A town car with dark tinted windows waited for them at the back of 1PP, as they exited the service entrance in hopes of avoiding any reporters who might have camped out in front.

From the turns and speed, Beckett could tell that the car wasn't headed towards the loft and looked at Castle questioningly.

"At least they're not putting black bags over our heads this time," Castle replied to her look.

"Castle," Beckett said warningly.

"Kate, you asked me to trust you," Castle replied, suddenly serious. "Now you have to trust me."

Beckett nodded in reply. "Always," she said, using one of his favorite phrases.

The town car finally pulled into a garage and parked on the lowest level where Danberg was waiting for them.

"Mr. Castle, Captain Beckett, I'm glad to see everything worked out," he said as he escorted them to an elevator.

"So what are we doing here?" Beckett asked on the way down.

"We're hoping to clear up some things and need your assistance," Danberg replied. "In return, we can tell you what we know."

The fake Henry Jenkins was waiting for them in a conference room that had a smart board set up.

"Long time, no see," Castle said.

"It hasn't been that long," Jenkins said with a slight smile. He motioned to two chairs at the table. "Please, have a seat. This may take a while."

"Thanks," said Castle as he sat next to Beckett.

Danberg looked directly at Beckett. "You and Vikram Singh have spent the last several weeks trying to track down LOCKSAT after their failed assassination attempt."

"Yes, but how do you know that?" asked Beckett.

Danberg only smiled slightly. "And you have not been successful."

Beckett shook her head. "No. I thought we were getting close several times, but apparently we weren't."

"Ever wonder why?" Danberg asked.

"They knew what we were doing," Beckett responded. "Cross confirmed that yesterday."

Castle frowned. "You saw…Cross?"

Beckett nodded as she looked at Castle. "He was in town and stopped by to say hi."

"Yeah, I'm sure," said Jenkins. "What exactly did he tell you?"

"That he had been hunting LOCKSAT for years and didn't know the woman who said she was his wife," Beckett said. "The one who saved us from the first hit squad."

"Would this be that woman?" Danberg said as he pulled up a picture on the monitor.

Beckett nodded. "That's her. She said her name was Rita."

"Her name is actually Anita Carlson and she was a senior agent in the DEA. We picked her up at a private airport several hours ago after she was warned that you had been arrested," said Danberg looking at Castle.

"Is she LOCKSAT?" Beckett asked.

Danberg shrugged. "One of the top 5, 4 of whom are in custody now."

"How does this connect to my being arrested?" Castle asked, suddenly curious.

Jenkins nodded. "It's probably best to start at the beginning and that's last year when you went missing."

"You mean that fake story about Jafari?" scoffed Castle.

"No, that was actually real," replied Jenkins. "Only it didn't go quite as you remembered it. We had intel that Jafari wanted to come in, but the Russians also had the same intel. The first one who got to him won.

"But Jafari's contact was killed and he said he'd only come in with someone he trusted. Since you had gone to school together, your name popped up."

Jenkins took a breath. "We were going to approach you after the wedding, while you were in the Maldives, but the Russians beat us to it."

"The Russians – they ran me off the road?" asked Castle.

Jenkins nodded. "Yes, but fortunately, your father was tailing you and saw what happened. When they tried to put you in the SUV, he took them out. You arranged for your friend to crush the SUV so that they couldn't track you."

"But why didn't I go home – go to Kate?" Castle asked, shaking his head.

"Because a second team was waiting for you at your house in case the first team didn't intercept you," Danberg said simply. "You knew it wasn't safe and that you would have put your family in jeopardy if you did."

"Okay," said Castle, nodding. "Then what happened?"

"We were supposed to go to Thailand immediately, but they were having record flooding and we couldn't get into the area where Jafari was. So we waited in Canada until conditions improved," said Jenkins.

"That's where I made the tapes and the picture was taken," said Castle.

Jenkins nodded in confirmation. "We had to wait almost 2 weeks to leave. We were constantly on the move to avoid detection."

"And, once we got there, how long did that take?" asked Castle.

"A couple of days," replied Jenkins. "We flew to Thailand and picked up Jafari, but we were ambushed by Golovkin. You, Jafari, and Powers were in one truck and I was in another. I stayed behind to make sure you got out safely. The plans were for you to fly to a military base in California at that point."

"But then why did it take almost 2 months for me to come back? And why was I found in a boat at sea off the east coast?" asked Castle.

Danberg and Jenkins shared a look.

"That's where the story gets a little dicey," said Jenkins.

"Really," said Castle. "A little dicey?"

Jenkins nodded. "After you left, I was given another code black assignment. I didn't make it back to the States until several weeks later. When I learned that you were missing, I tracked Jafari down. He said that he was told you had become ill on the flight back and you had been quarantined. He assumed that you were still at the same military base where he had been taken."

"Only you weren't," said Danberg.

"You lost me?" Castle asked incredulously.

Jenkins nodded. "When you were found a week later, we were able to back track the location you had stolen the boat from to a trailer home in Massachusetts."

"You were taking out the garbage when Espo, Ryan, and I got there," said Beckett. She frowned. "And that wasn't garbage."

"No, it wasn't. Medical waste, to be precise – syringes, vials – and some DVDs," said Jenkins.

"What was in the vials?" asked Castle.

"A very potent combination of drugs," said Danberg. "And your DNA was on the syringes. But what we couldn't figure out was who had done this and why."

"We kept trying to jog your memory," said Jenkins, "but nothing worked until Golovkin showed up last spring. After the encounter in the alley, I kept wondering why he didn't kill Jafari when he had the chance, and then I realized that you were his target. Something must have happened on the flight back from Thailand. At that point, I did some digging into his background and found out that he ran an illegal drug operation in Russia. He must have known that there was a large shipment on the plane."

"It wasn't until the DEA seized an illegal shipment of drugs in LA last week that all the pieces finally came together," said Danberg. "Not only did they find your fingerprints several of the packages inside medical supply crates, they also found a bullet. That bullet was from Carlson's gun."

"So what we think happened is that you opened one of the crates to find a bandage for Jafari, but instead you found the shipment and she shot you," said Jenkins.

"She was on the flight?" asked Beckett.

"Yes, posing as medic," said Danberg. "When we questioned the people who had purchased the shipment, they said they bought it from this man, who was the pilot for your trip to Thailand."

He pulled up a picture.

Castle stared at it, stone-faced. "Everest Joe," he said.

"So you know him?" Jenkins asked.

"I had the unfortunate experience of flying with him before," Castle responded.

Jenkins nodded. "I wondered why you were slow getting on the plane when you knew someone was going to be shooting at you any minute."

"I tagged along on one of Sophia's fact-finding missions in South America," said Castle. "He was flying the plane." He looked at them. "You know why they call him 'Everest Joe'? It's because he was literally flying high most of the time. He brought a couple of bricks of cocaine back with him on the plane and offered me a snort. I told him what he was doing was illegal and he said not to worry, that he had a deal."

"Rick, you knew all along?" Beckett asked. She had deliberately kept him out of her search, thinking it was too dangerous, but that hadn't been the case. If she had only known what he had known, things could have worked out very differently. "Did you tell anyone?"

Castle nodded. "The next day when we got back, I talked with Bureau Chief Thompson. He said they knew about Joe's little side business and were monitoring it. Guess they monitored that illegal side business into an illegal lucrative business."

He was thoughtful. "So let me get this right – the Russians tried to kidnap me and I then went to Thailand to help bring back Jafari, but on the way back, LOCKSAT kidnapped me because of what I found on the plane and erased my memory."

Danberg nodded. "That would be the gist of it."

"But why didn't they just get rid of me and dump the shipment?" Castle asked.

"Joe said that Carlson wanted to, but their mole in the CIA told them who your father is," said Jenkins. "And Joe got greedy; he was supposed to dump the shipment but thought he could make a score on the side."

"If you knew all this and knew that I was searching for them, why didn't you stop me?" Beckett asked. So much heartache could have been avoided if they had only done that.

"LOCKSAT would have known that we were on to them if we had done that," Danberg said. "They've gone underground several times and this was our best lead."

"But as I said earlier," he continued, "we've got enough information now to cripple them now."

Beckett looked up, suddenly hopeful. "So it's over?" she asked.

Danberg nodded. "Yes, it is."

Castle looked at Beckett. "So now can you come home?"

# # # # # # #


	7. Chapter 7 Not a Bed of Roses

**Lovely Rita, Meter Maid**

Summary: What if Rita isn't who she says she is? I told myself I wasn't going to write a season 8 story but this idea just popped in my head.

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews, favs, and follows – all of you rock. Don't own Castle; just writing to mess with the characters. And this is the last chapter and it might have a sensitive subject in it for some of you. Once again, thanks for reading. It's been a pleasure. And to all, a good night.

 **Chapter 7 Not a Bed of Roses**

# # # # # # #

It was early morning, several weeks later, when Beckett woke, not sure what had awoken her, but she knew something was off.

She glanced over at Castle's side of the bed and saw that it was empty, the sheets cool, a situation that was becoming more prevalent since she had returned home.

She then looked at the clock next to their bed and saw the time – 5:30 am. The alarm was set for 6 but she knew that she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep now.

As she drew on her robe, she thought about the last few weeks, frowning slightly.

Things at the precinct were still rocky. Ryan and Espo hadn't entirely forgiven her for their being drug down to 1PP and questioned about what she was doing. They felt like she had shut them out, had violated a special bond that made them a unit.

Gates made unannounced visits, checking on Beckett, and also verifying her whereabouts when she wasn't in the office, so she knew that 1PP was still watching her.

Things at home weren't going any smoother either.

Castle's initial delight at finally having her home had quickly turned to wariness each time her phone rang and she said she had to go to work or had a meeting. Even though he was allowed to come back to the precinct, he rarely did, citing his busy work schedule with his detective agency.

The synchronous dance they had been so good at once upon a time now felt awkward, both tiptoeing around on egg shells, not willing to upset the delicate balance that they were trying to achieve.

It had the same feel as when Castle had come back from being missing those two months, only now the shoe was on the other foot.

It was Castle's turn to trust her, but there was one big difference. They now knew that he hadn't voluntarily left, but she had, and that was the elephant in the room that was waiting to stomp on them at the slightest misstep.

To make matters worse, they hadn't 'connected' since she had been back. Sure, there had been a few hugs and a few caste kisses to her forehead, but Castle hadn't initiated anything more and politely rebuffed her when she tried.

And when he was on his laptop and she walked in unexpectedly, he'd close whatever he was looking at and put the laptop down, stating that he was done.

Now he was leaving for two-day book tour.

She opened the bedroom door and walked out, finding Castle and Martha standing by the kitchen island, talking quietly. A small overnight bag sat on the floor by the door.

She frowned when she didn't smell any coffee brewing. "Morning, Martha," she said to her mother-in-law with a tentative smile.

"Good morning, Katherine," Martha replied, not offering anything else.

Beckett looked back at Castle. "Hey, babe, I thought you didn't have to leave until later?" she asked cautiously.

"It turns out that I have to be there a little earlier than expected," Castle replied. "You had a late evening, so I tried not to wake you. The coffee is set to brew at 5:30."

"You're not having any?" Beckett asked.

Castle shook his head. "No."

"I thought that Alexis was taking you to the airport?" Beckett commented, thoroughly confused as she looked at Martha.

Martha's phone chirped. "That's the car service. I'll be waiting downstairs so you two can talk, kiddo," she said, giving Castle a peck on the cheek and a pat on the arm.

Beckett frowned as Martha walked out of the loft and then looked at Castle, her brow furrowed. "Babe, what's going on?"

Castle nodded slowly, making up his mind. "I'm not going on a book tour," he said. "I'm having a vasectomy this morning."

"A what?" Beckett asked, incredulously. "But why didn't you tell me? Don't I have a say in this?" she demanded, suddenly angry. She had thought that one day they might have children, but now…

"No, you don't," Castle replied simply. He took a breath. "Given the circumstances, I really don't think it's fair to bring a child into the world."

"Circumstances – you mean my job?" Beckett asked. "Rick, I'm a cop – a police officer – and yes, my job can be dangerous at times. So if this is about that, then no, that's not a good enough reason."

"If that's all it was, it would be a no-brainer," Caste replied, shaking his head. "No, it's more than that."

He gave a slight ironic laugh. "It's what drew me to you – your unrelenting desire to get justice no matter the obstacles, no matter the consequences – the fact that you never give up."

"Is this about finding LOCKSAT?" Beckett asked. "Look, I did what I did it to protect you. I promise—"

Castle put up a hand to stop her, his eyes flashing. "No, Kate, don't promise me something that both you and I know that you can't deliver. You lied to my face and then told me no more secrets, and then you lied again."

He paused and nodded. "Bracken was right. We both know that this world is filled with bad people and that you'll always be tilting at windmills no matter the cost."

"No," Beckett said, shaking her head. "You don't know that."

Castle nodded. "Yes, I do. I think you have this deep-seated need to go off by yourself to find justice." He shrugged. "It may have started with your mother's murder because the police failed you at that crucial time. You may have always had it."

He took a deep breath. "It's why you became a police officer – you had to solve her murder and you had to solve it yourself. Only sometimes I think you don't remember that you didn't do it alone. If Montgomery hadn't recorded Bracken, there would have been no evidence linking him to her murder. If Smith didn't have the file, there would have been no evidence linking Bracken. If I hadn't looked into the case, we wouldn't have found the evidence that her murder was not random gang violence."

Beckett shook her head. "I don't see what any of that has to do with this. I had other people with me." She looked at him, fire in her eyes now. "You were with me."

"Yeah," nodded Castle. "When you were on the run from Bracken. But before that, you went at Maddox without proper backup; you went at Bracken without backup; hell, you even went for Amy without backup. Any of those could have gone wrong and gotten you killed."

"So, what do you want, Castle? For me to stop being who I am?" Beckett half-way snarled.

"No," said Castle, shaking his head. "What I want is for you to quit taking unnecessary risks, but I don't think you can." He looked at her with tear-filled eyes. "So I've come to accept the fact that I will lose you to a quest – that you'll go out alone some day and won't come home. And that's the price I have to pay for loving you."

He took a breath and wiped his eyes with his thumb. "So, no, you don't have a say in this, Kate, because I'll be the one who has to explain to our child why they weren't enough for you."

He bent and picked up his bag. "I'll be staying with Mother for the next couple of days." He paused. "I'm not sure if you'll be here when I get back. If not, just let me know where to send your belongings."

Castle walked out the door, leaving it open the same way she had done not 2 months ago, breaking his heart in the process.

Beckett stared at the open door, standing on a precipice. Either way, her life changed. Was it more important to be a crusader, or to be a wife and a mother? Why couldn't she be both?

She nodded to herself – she could; she just had to find a way to manage it, to not go down the rabbit hole. And she knew exactly where to start. She had reacted on gut instinct when Singh called but something better was needed.

"Rick!" she yelled as she rushed out into the hallway, catching him just as he was about to step onto the elevator. "Wait." She ran up to him, catching his hand. "Please, give me just 6 months. And then, if you haven't changed your mind, I'll go with you."

"Beckett," Castle said, shaking his head.

She held up her hand as she pressed a number on her cell phone. "Deputy Chief Gates, this is Captain Beckett. I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, but I knew you'd be up. Is there any way we could meet today? I'd like to discuss putting a protocol in place for handling situations like the one that we just had with the AG office. 2 this afternoon? That would be great. And can I bring Mr. Castle along? Yes, sir, thank you so much."

Beckett smiled at Castle as she hung up the phone. This was a start, a tentative start, but she had to begin somewhere. Next would be a call to Dr. Burke to schedule an appointment.

# # # # # # #

 **Epilogue – 5 years later**

Beckett sat on the park bench, reading a book and watching Castle play with their 2-1/2 year old son, Alexander James, on the playground equipment.

It had taken years of counseling to get to this point, to get Castle to change his mind, to prove to him that family was important to her also, that she could avoid going down the rabbit hole.

In those 5 years, Alexis had become a doctor, studying to become a Medical Examiner. Martha was doing extremely well on Broadway, but her favorite role was still that of grandmother.

When AJ was born, Castle handed the reins of his thriving PI business to Ryan, who now didn't have to worry about money for his growing brood because of Castle's generous profit sharing.

Espo had stayed with the force, moving up to become a lieutenant and eyeing a captaincy at another precinct.

She herself was still a captain at the 12th and only had to use the 'Code Black' protocol they had put in place 1 time. This was definitely a global world now and getting smaller every day.

Her stomach growled and she placed a hand on the growing baby bump.

"Hey, guys, it's time to feed your sister," she called to them as she stood up and felt the safety pin holding the waistband of her pants pop. Yep, it was time to start wearing maternity clothes again.

AJ jumped down from the swing his father was pushing him on and raced towards her, stopping just short of colliding into her and threw his arms around her legs. "Wanna hear, mommy," he said, trying to reach her belly.

Castle smiled at her as he walked up and gave her a quick kiss as they walked hand-in-hand.

Castle's spy books had done very well and one was being made into a movie, with options out on the other two. He was now working on a crime novel about a boy who found a body in the woods and then became a detective so that he could track down the killer.

He never wrote another Nikki Heat book, ending the series with Heat and Rook still married and expecting their first child.

# # # # # # #

The End

# # # # # # #


End file.
